Mine To Protect
by C.Queen
Summary: Having successfully completed the Fischer job Eames and Arthur leave the airport thinking they'll never see the other again. But fate intervenes in the form of a car accident, a telling photograph, and feelings long unspoken.
1. A Picture's Worth

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations all characters find themselves in. Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy this latest fanfic.

A Picture's Worth

Eames sat on the hard bench and stared down at his hands. Hands that were stained with Arthur's blood. And while he knew in some still rational part of his mind that he should get up and clean them, he couldn't seem to transmit that message to the rest of his brain. The nurse had told him to wait here for news and here he would sit until she came back or someone else brought him to wherever Arthur had been taken.

It was really so bloody ironic when he thought about it. That they were both here. They'd just finished the most difficult and dangerous job of their careers, had actually successfully completed an inception of another person's mind without permanent damage done to anyone, and not three blocks from the fucking airport some son of a bitch had run a fucking red light and smashed into the taxi directly behind his.

The taxi Arthur had gotten into.

He'd seen Arthur hurt in dreams of course. He'd seen the man dead for that matter. He'd thought that he'd long ago built up the fortitude to deal with that without losing his focus or revealing to anyone just how deeply his feelings for the other man ran.

But he'd never see Arthur seriously hurt in reality.

So while in his head he knew that the EMTs had told him that Arthur would be fine, that he was stable and probably wouldn't even need surgery, Eames could barely stop himself from breaking down like a child or tearing the hospital apart until he found Arthur so that he could hold the man close to him and listen to that strong heartbeat, feel the warmth of his former lover's skin against his own.

Hell, at this point he'd give his entire take from the Fischer job to hear the prissy bastard tell him that there was no reason for him to hang around and that it would be a cold day in hell before he'd need anyone to take care of him, much less him.

So much for taking the Fischer job so that he could prove to himself and Arthur that he'd gotten over being dumped, Eames thought with serious self deprecation.

As Arthur had pointed out numerous times over the past few weeks he'd acted like a damn kid, deliberately trying to get a rise, no pun intended, out of the point man every chance he got. But he hadn't been able to stop himself every time, needing to behave that way to keep their interactions from taking a more emotional slant. Not that Arthur had ever seen him as anything but a handy lay when they were working together. No, the caring…the love…had been completely one sided. The man had made that perfectly clear when he'd casually informed him at the start of their last job together before Fischer that he was seeing someone and wasn't interested in sharing a bedroom as per usual.

The bastard.

Because while they might have started sleeping together as a way of blowing off steam and relaxing after work when they were teamed up, it had damn well become more than that. Hell, he'd lost track of how many highly lucrative jobs he'd turned down so that he could be available to team up with his lover and Cobb. Arthur had known it too, the smug prick.

"Mr. Eames?"

Lifting his head Eames blinked as he stared up at the nurse, not really seeing her as he struggled to focus. "Pardon?"

"Are you Mr. Eames?"

When he nodded the nurse smiled at him. "Hello. Mr. Gordon asked me to check to see if you were still waiting. He said that you're the worrying type and he wanted to let you know that he was conscious and lucid. So far it looks like the head wound is the worst of it, he's fighting a nasty headache at the moment that has him using some pretty big, descriptive words. He asked me to ask you if you'd seen about retrieving his luggage from the trunk of the cab he was in?"

"You can tell the clothes snob that the car behind him insured that nothing in that trunk is going to be remotely salvageable." What Arthur was really worried about of course was the tools of their trade being discovered, but that wasn't going to be an issue given the damage. And even if that were the case the man had everything locked down and it wasn't likely the guarda would crack it open just to appease their curiosity.

The nurse smiled in amusement. "Yes, he was quite…displeased at the state of his clothing when he regained consciousness. He was relieved to hear you had his jacket and identification though. Anyway, I better get back, he shouldn't be more than an hour by the way. The doctors were talking about keeping him overnight but unless they uncover something worse than the head wound Mr. Gordon's made it clear he isn't staying."

"Does he need to stay?" If he had to he was perfectly capable of making the smaller man stay right where he was. In the mood he was in Arthur would know better than to mess with him.

The nurse studied him for a moment. "Are you going to take care of him and make sure he follows the doctor's orders when he leaves here?"

"Yes."

"Then I think it will be okay for him to go home with you."

Nodding his head Eames asked if there was any paperwork he could do so that they could leave quicker, figuring that since he had the man's wallet he might as well distract himself by giving them the necessary info that hospitals seemed to take evil delight in heaping on everyone that entered their domain. Arthur would be carrying identification for his present alias, so that wouldn't be a problem either.

Obviously picking up on the fact that he needed to do something the nurse left and came back fifteen minutes later, giving him a clipboard full of forms for him to fill out for Arthur.

Retrieving the other man's wallet Eames pulled out Arthur's current driver's license, transferring that information to the various forms in careful print since it would stretch out the task. In turn he used the various cards and pieces of info tucked away in their appropriate places to fill out the other blanks, thankfully that he knew the man's medical history pretty well from sneaking peeks at the information Yusuf had gathered on each of them. And of course he knew his man's allergies and such, not that that really mattered at this point.

All in all the tiresome paperwork would just need to be signed off on and then they'd be able to head on out Eames decided once he'd done all he could.

Setting the clipboard to the side Eames turned his attention to the wallet he'd splayed over his thigh, picking it up with the intention of closing it and shoving it back into the inside picket Arthur had kept it in. It was then that he noticed the faintest hint of something sticking out of one side.

He didn't hesitate for a second to appease his curiosity.

Carefully Eames slid the piece of paper out, the back of a photograph coming into view. As soon as it was all the way out he turned it over, eyes widening at the black and white image that stared back at him.

It was him from the waist up, fast asleep and on his side. He wore nothing but a faint smile, the background indicating where it was taken. It was from their trip to St. Lucia three years before, a present to themselves after a particularly difficult, time consuming job. He recognized the bed and the doors leading to their balcony in the background.

There were no other pictures in the man's wallet, not of Dom or Mal or either of the couple's children. None of the point man's family or any other friends, none of the lover Arthur had dumped him for.

His was the only picture to be found.

"Why?"

)

This is why you never told yourself things couldn't possibly get worse, Arthur thought as he sat in the wheelchair they'd insisted he had to sit in until he got into whatever mode of transportation Eames had secured for them. He'd gotten into that ill-fated cab thinking that things couldn't get much worse in his life and fate had just had to prove him wrong. He'd had it tossed in his face that his best friend thought of him as nothing but a tool, had accepted that he'd just completed his last job with the love of his life which meant that he'd never see Eames again since the man would have no reason to seek him out, and had no home or family to go to. He'd had nothing but money and that definitely didn't buy what would make him happy. Death or limbo had both seemed like more attractive options when he'd left the airport, and then…what were the odds, really?

Punishment for his sins, it had to be.

Thank God he'd been unconscious when they'd cut his shirt off. It had been one of his favorites.

Wanting to distract himself Arthur asked about the forms he'd need to fill out, surprised when he was informed that his business partner had already filled out most of them for him and that he'd just have to sign off on the data.

Eames? How could Eames possibly know what to put? Not even Dom would be able to fill those forms out since he wouldn't know which identity-ah. Eames had his wallet. The other man must have used that information. Good. They'd be able to leave sooner.

Spotting the other man as soon as they rounded the corner Arthur watched the forger get up from a very uncomfortable looking bench and come over to meet them.

And since it had to be said Arthur got it out of the way. "Thank you for sticking around."

"I'd say anytime, but I'd really rather this be the first and last." Was Eames's drawled out response as he looked him over, obviously taking stock of his injuries. "Though I must say, that is an interesting fashion statement you're going for there, Darling."

All thankfulness vanished in the blink of an eye. "Swallow your totem and choke on it."

Mentioning the fact that he was wearing hospital scrubs was hitting so low below the belt that if he'd been up to it he would have slugged the son of a bitch.

"Glad to see you're feeling so much better." Holding out the clipboard Eames smirked. "Look this over and sign off it like a good boy. I've arranging for a cab to pick us up and you know what the bleeding bastards charge around here."

Carefully taking the forms Arthur quickly read over everything, just in case. Not that it mattered since he wouldn't be returning for a follow up visit, but it was habit to want everything in order. One never knew when unfinished paperwork would come back to bite one in the ass. But everything was in order and after adding a couple things Arthur signed off and handed over the clipboard to the nurse who'd stepped forward to collect it.

Once that was done he and Eames had to listen to a longwinded speech from his doctor as to his care, but thankfully his ex lover was very good at manipulating people and shortly had the doctor believing that he was perfectly capable of handling every aspect of his care. Since Eames actually did have some military training the man probably could take care of him if he had any intention of letting him do so. Which if course Arthur didn't, but he kept that to himself for the time being.

Getting into the cab once they got outside wasn't easy, he hurt everywhere and Arthur was pretty sure it was only going to get worse, but he grinched his teeth and managed it, making no complaint when Eames directed their ride to take them to the forger's hotel. In truth he'd already decided he wasn't staying in Los Angeles and had called his hotel to cancel his reservation. He'd been looking over flights back to Europe when the accident had happened. In his present situation there was no way he was going anywhere so any hotel was fine at this point.

"We'll be there in twenty minutes, Darling."

"Kay." His words were slurry, but he had things to say. "I'll get a room when we get there, no need for you to babysit me. I'll be fine."

"Sure you will be, Luv. And I'm a bleeding cowboy."

Images of Eames dressed as a cowboy, oh fuck he was so unbelievably hot and sexy, immediately swamped Arthur's consciousness, quickly followed by images of the other man riding him instead of a horse, which had him groaning long and low in spite of himself.

"Just rest up, we'll argue when you aren't groaning in pain."

"That could be a while."

"Fine with me."

)

When he awoke two hours later it was to the sound of Eames's voice, Arthur's mind slowly picking up on the fact that the other man was ordering him to state his name, the date, and where they were. Why his former lover was asking him those things made a lot of sense when he attempted to move his head to look in Eames's direction, the pain reminding him in vivid detail of what had happened and the fact that he had a concussion, hence the need to monitor him and make sure his brain was still in working order. So he gave the man the information and then went quiet as he mentally reviewed his injuries as he attempted to move various body parts, discovering in the process that he wasn't wearing anything.

"Where are my clothes?"

"Destroyed, remember? I got the hospital crap off you and you always said you'd rather go naked then wear MY clothes so there you go. How bad is the pain?"

"I've had worse." Unfortunately. "Nothing I can't handle."

"Good. Because in that case you and I have something to discuss before you go back to sleep, Darling."

Obviously the jubilation of completing the inception had worn off and the man was ready to let him have it for his part in the massive screw up that had been the Fischer job. That was fine, Arthur thought as he made himself hold the forger's gaze. He'd take his lumps. He deserved them. "Go ahead."

Reaching into his pocket Eames pulled out the photograph. "When I was going through your wallet for your data I happened to run into something interesting." The forger held out the picture so that Arthur could see it clearly. "You didn't have any other picture in there but this. None of the Cobb family, your other friends, or lovers. Just me. Why? And before you give me some bullshit answer keep in mind that I just completed a job that nearly cost me my life because of your fucking partner. Shooting him really appeals to me at the moment, and seeing you unconscious and bleeding inside that bloody cab hasn't improved my mood in the slightest. So the truth, on your word, or else."

Arthur's lips curved ever so slightly. "Actually…shooting Dom sounds pretty good to me right now too."

"Arthur."

Closing his eyes, knowing that tone of voice well, Arthur knew that the other man had reached the end of his rope. Not that Eames would physically torturing him into confessing his secrets, but the man was even better at cutting a person to shreds verbally than he was. The man studied people for a living after all, he had a sixth sense when it came to finding their weakest points.

"I don't have pictures of Mal and the kids because it saddens me to see what once was. There's none of Dom because it wouldn't be a good idea to advertise our association that way, and I don't have any close friends or lovers whose picture I'd want to see regularly. That picture…is my favorite of you."

Opening his eyes again Arthur glared at the other man, pain, exhaustion and heartache ringing clear in his voice. "You always do what I don't want you to. You weren't supposed to take this job in the first place, damn you. Just like you were never supposed to know about that picture." He added in a more subdue tone of voice. "But why would I think fate would cut me a fucking break? Especially where you're concerned."

Okay, when Arthur used the F word things were definitely serious. "You told Cobb where I was."

"Because I thought he wouldn't go!" Arthur's chest heaved as he fought back the urge to yell every word. "Because I was stupid enough to think the price on his head would keep him from going there, and even if he did you'd talk him out of it. You like a challenge as much as he does, but stupid me, I thought you had the sense to turn him down. I thought the thought of working with me would keep you away if even the STUPIDITY of the job didn't. I mean I even fucking broke up with you to keep you away from him because he's been on self-destruct since Mal died but of course that didn't work either. And once again I get it shoved in my fucking face how little I understand the people I love because not only do you take the job but Cobb up and drags a little girl into the clusterfuck job of the century, and she's so into his plan and him that nothing I say convinces her to back out. You're both headed into the fubar abyss and you can't be more thrilled and I'm stuck behind, the stick in the mud, the man who can't think outside the fucking box, and NOBODY CARES HOW I FEEL!"

Eames was dumbfounded. "Do you even know what fubar means?"

"IT MEANS FUCKED UP BEYOND ALL RECOCOGNITION!"

"Then okay, yes, you do know what it means." And he was so very, very confused. "Did you just say you loved me? That you broke up with me to protect me from Dom?"

"I had to do something, didn't I? I had to stay with him, I gave Mal my word I'd take care of him. I couldn't very well do that if I shot him repeatedly and watched him bleed out because he'd gotten you killed, now could I? I'm not Dom, Eames. I would never sacrifice my most important person for my own benefit. I've fucking lost count of how many times he's gotten me tortured and killed at this point. I couldn't let that happen to you."

"Not to you." Arthur repeated into the silence that had descended between them. "Not if I could prevent it."


	2. Worth of One's Word

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations all characters get in.

Worth of One's Word

Eames stared down at Arthur, completely unable to reconcile the man's words with what he'd thought was the reality of their feelings for one another. Never once in all the years they'd known each other had Arthur ever said he loved him. Not even in the casual way people sometimes did when they'd been close for a while. The closest he'd ever gotten to hearing his former lover apply the L word towards him was the man stating that he loved his body or his technique in the bedroom, and that was in the throes, not outside the bedroom, ever. But here Arthur was, stating quite loudly that he loved him and had only broken up with him because he feared him coming to harm at Dom's hands.

The irony that that had nearly happened anyway wasn't lost on him either, but he had more important things to think about.

"You never once, in three and a half fucking years, ever told me you loved me. Hell, not once did you even say you fancied me. We ended up in bed together that first night because we were both pissed on liquor and weren't thinking straight."

"You were pissed." Arthur corrected, now looking anywhere but at Eames. "I know better than to get drunk when surrounded by thieves."

"Nice try, Darling, but I was there as you'll recall. I watched you drink."

"You saw me drink ginger ale. It's remarkable really, how much it can look like alcohol under dim lighting."

The forger opened and closed his mouth several times, unable to think straight enough to even process the fact that Arthur had gone to bed with him that night completely sober and aware of his actions. He'd always felt guilty about that, seeing as he had a great tolerance for liquor and hadn't been quite as drunk at the time as he'd pretended to be. And while he was happy as hell to learn the truth now…he also wanted to shake the bastard, which he couldn't do thanks to the prat's damn concussion.

Where the hell was a bloody punching bag when he needed one?

Taking several calming breaths, because boy did he need them, Eames forced himself not to yell or cause the other man any physical damage. For the moment.

"When you've healed up enough to take it I'm going to beat the shit out of you and yell you deaf, you tight assed wanker, I swear ta God."

"One should always have something to look forward to in life, I suppose."

"Go back to sleep before I kill you, Darling."

You're so lucky you have the most perfect ass in the world or I'd have paddled it black and blue by now, the forger mentally fumed as Arthur thankfully opted not to respond to his death threat. And since the desire to yell was still too close to the surface for comfort Eames got to his feet and crossed the room to drop into the overstuffed chair in the corner of the room, staring off into space as he tried to get his thoughts in order and figure out what the hell to do with what he'd learned.

Only Arthur could completely destroy his plans and composure this way and it was as frickin annoying as it always was to have that shoved in his face.

Pushing aside the other man's love confession for the time being, that was a landmine he just wasn't up to dealing with at the moment, the forger concentrated on why Arthur had apparently broken up with him almost a year ago. Now most people would think that the man having given his word was a cop out, but he knew Arthur too well to think otherwise. The man was very old school in certain ways and Arthur's word had always been his bond. He always kept his word. It went without saying that the point man hadn't anticipated what he was agreeing to when he promised Mal that he'd look after Dom, but that wouldn't have mattered in the grand scheme of things. Come hell or high water Arthur would have stayed to cover Dom's back, had proven that by sticking with him through hellish jobs and this last one…

He remembered in the van, Arthur mentioning that he and Dom had been torn to bits by the subconscious of someone named Stein on another assignment. How many other jobs had gone bad since the last job he'd worked with the two before the Fischer job? They wouldn't have just been battling their target's subconscious either, but Mal as well. She'd always struck him as the right vindictive sort, should she be crossed, and in the dreams she was apparently always out to make her former partners suffer thank to Dom's own subconscious.

And it was one thing to be tortured by a stranger, and another thing entirely to be hurt by someone you loved.

Looking over in the direction of the bed Eames noted that Arthur's eyes were closed, though the man was probably just playing possum for the time being. The man hated to let his control lapse and it certainly had done that earlier in a big way. He couldn't recall ever hearing Arthur yell that loud unless he was climaxing.

That thought had others running through his mind, delicious, sensual memories of their times together and all the times he'd made Arthur cry himself hoarse. He'd strained his own throat a time or too as well, Eames thought as his mind clung to those precious memories, a sort of self torture that he'd relished over the months even as they'd scraped at his heart almost unbearably.

It was the thought of it being tortured that had the forger leaving the chair and heading back to the bed. Without asking for permission Eames stretched out beside the unnaturally still man and placed his head on Arthur's shoulder, carefully setting an arm loosely across his former lover's stomach under the covers.

"What are you doing?"

"Making you as bloody miserable as I am."

"I see."

Neither spoke again as they drifted in and out of sleep, both tormented and comforted to have the other so close.

)

Having been catnapping on and off for the sake of avoiding talking to Eames, it wasn't like he needed sleep given all the time he'd spent unconscious lately, Arthur opened his eyes as soon as he felt Eames's hands on his shoulders, trusting that the man had a reason for wanting him awake and aware. The forger had left the bed a short while ago, and the point man found out why when he was informed that dinner had been ordered and had just been delivered. In truth he wasn't remotely hungry, but Arthur accepted that he had to if he was going to build up his strength and recover enough to handle whatever Eames threw his way when the Brit decided he was up to the tongue lashing the man no doubt had planned for him.

Carefully sitting up Arthur made no protest when Eames reached around to move pillows behind him so that they'd prop him up. Normally he didn't approve of eating in bed but at this point he didn't have enough energy to argue about anything, much less that.

When Eames left him and returned with a bed table Arthur concentrated his attention on the food, feeling a vise squeeze the hell out of his heart as he saw what the other man had done for him.

Eames had cut up his steak for him.

Under normal circumstance he'd be really pissed off at being treated like an infant, but given their present situation, and all the fighting they'd done in the last few weeks and would be doing in the days to come when he was up to it…well dammit, he felt like crying over the small, caring demonstration.

Swallowing hard Arthur just barely managed to get a rough thank you past the lump in his throat.

Inclining his head in acknowledgement Eames said nothing to suggest that he was aware of his reaction to the prepared meal, the forger instead collecting his own table laden with food and joining him on the bed, resting his back against the sideboard.

Not at all surprised to see that the television remote was also on the other man's tray, Eames had always been a remote hog, Arthur forced himself to start eating while Eames flipped through the channels, not staying on one for long before moving on. Another annoying habit of the man's, Arthur thought to himself nostalgically, unaware that his lips had curved into a fond little smile.

"You want to watch this, then?"

Pulled from his thoughts Arthur blinked and carefully turned his head to meet Eames's gaze. "Pardon?"

"I said do you want to watch this? You were smiling."

Slowly turning his head Arthur studied what was playing out of the screen and then looked back at Eames. "The day I enjoy reality television is the day I happily jump into limbo of my own volition and stay there."

There was a hint of laughter in Eames's response, which pleased Arthur in spite of himself. "Now that's a bit harsh, Darling. It's really rather entertaining, if for no other reason than it reassures a person that their lives really aren't so bad in comparison. Not to mention the fact that it reassures blokes like us that the majority of the human population is woefully underdeveloped in the brains department, and are therefore always ripe for future plucking."

A thoughtful expression crossing Arthur's face the point man momentarily forgot about forcing himself to eat the food on his plate. "Does that mean you intend to shortly blow all the money you just earned at the tables, as per usual, or are you going to stay in the game for the fun of it?" Strictly speaking someone of Eames's skills demanded top dollar and the man had to have quite a bit stashed away unless he'd blown it all gambling, which was a distinct possibility. He'd prefer to think he'd fallen in love with a man with enough brains to put money away for when he had to retire, but that could be just wishful thinking on his part.

"Arthur, one of these days you're going to tire of making cracks about my skills at the tables."

"Eames, one of these days you're going to have to accept that you have NO skills at the tables."

"How I do look forward to these little talks of ours." The forger muttered, though there was a hint of fondness in his eyes before he turned his attention back to the television screen. "And I plan to have myself a long holiday, see what's what after that. Can't imagine retiring just yet." He added. "Looking to team up with me, Darling?"

"I'm retiring."

Now that obviously surprised the hell out of Eames, his head swing back around to stare at Arthur. "You've never struck me as the type who could settle for a life of leisure, Darling. In fact, you are the only person of my considerable acquaintance who I would have said would keep working until you died on your bloody laptop."

Not remotely surprised that that was the fate Eames had envisioned for him, it was nothing he hadn't heard before, Arthur simply held the other man's gaze for a long moment. "Well perhaps I have more layers than you give me credit for, Mr. Eames."

Watching the man go back to eating with single minded focus Eames smiled a little. "So you're saying that you're like Shrek, then?"

"Be quiet and let me eat, Donkey."

After that they both turned their attention back to their food and the television, Arthur opting to fake going back to sleep as soon as he was done.

They both still had a lot of thinking to do.

)

Leaning back against the elevator a few hours later Eames absently patted his pocket, reassuring himself that the new identity he'd ordered was all there and ready for his use as soon as he left the hotel. Not that he thought Saito would be coming after him to snip what the man might consider a loose thread, but it was better to be safe than sorry. At the moment he figured the cold blooded bastard was damn grateful to be alive and mentally whole, plus they had teamed up in that last dream so to speak, but he'd learned long ago not to trust in honor among thieves.

It was a short walk from the elevator to the room he'd reserved and Eames quickly let himself in, not wanting to leave Arthur longer than was necessary. He'd only been gone twenty minutes at most, and he'd left a note, but just in case…this was Arthur he was dealing with.

Walking towards the bedroom which was situated towards the back of the suite Eames opened the door and stepped inside, coming to a grinding halt when his brain registered the fact that the bed in the middle of the room was empty. Arthur was gone. The man had slipped out while he was in the lobby and had left. And how would he find him now, Eames thought wildly as he scanned the room, trying to calm his mind even as he mentally spazzed out. The bastard wasn't well enough to be on his own, he had a fucking concussion! What if he went into a coma or passed out somewhere and nobody noticed? Or what if he was well enough but slipped into one of his many identities with his tracks so well covered that he couldn't follow them?

Rubbing the back of his neck Eames scanned the room a second time, hoping for a note at the very least. He couldn't believe that the-there was a light on in the bathroom.

Staring at the thin stream of light visible between the bathroom door and the carpet Eames breathed a sigh of relief and hurried over to open the door, walking into the room with a look in his eyes that promised untold horrors if his point man wasn't in there.

And Arthur was indeed in there, the man visible from the shoulders up.

"I didn't fill it much." Arthur stated as he concentrated fully on what he was doing, his voice indicating that he expected to be lectured and wasn't going to take kindly to it as he moved the wash cloth over his skin. "Even if I fainted there isn't enough for me to drown in. I'm dirty, I smell like a hospital, and my hair was disgusting with blood."

It figured that the man would wash his hair before he did anything else, Eames thought as he moved in to sit on the lip of the tub facing his lover, studying the man's eyes and finding them clear enough. The man's wellbeing confirmed, his gaze naturally went lower, taking in the bruises with resigned acceptance. It could have been a lot worse after all. "You kept your stiches dry?"

"Of course." Though he didn't even want to think about how much it had hurt to pull that off.

"You should have waited until I got back."

"How was I supposed to know when you would be back?" Arthur countered with a scowl. "Your note just said that you'd be back in a bit. You know how I feel about feeling grimy."

Chuckling in spite of himself Eames inclined his head in acknowledgement that he did indeed know how anal the other man was about his appearance. He would have cleaned his lover up before, when they'd arrived at the hotel, but at the time he hadn't wanted to unnecessarily risk waking the point man up until it was necessary. He should have realized how necessary it was in Arthur's mind. As it was it was a miracle the man had held out this long.

"You don't have to babysit me, I'll get out shortly."

In his mind Eames pictures the man attempting to get out of the tub only to crack his head on various hard surfaces. Didn't most household accidents occur in the loo? And that aside…

Going on instinct and his own desire Eames twisted around and turned the water back on, putting his hand under the tap to gauge the temperature since he was picky about that sort of thing. He could feel Arthur's eyes on him, silently asking him what he was up to, but he ignored him, concentrating on what he was doing.

Turning the water off when it was at the correct depth Eames got back to his feet.

"If you're going to let me have a bath I want more wat-." Arthur's words died off as he watched Eames begin to remove his clothes.

"Your body could use the soak and so could mine. It's been one of the longest bloody days of my bleeding life and it's not even over yet." With a look in his eyes that said he was at the end of his rope and pushing him was a veritable death sentence Eames quickly and efficiently stripped out of his clothes and then in a move he'd made countless times before in the past motioned for Arthur to move forward so that he could slide in behind him.

Thankful beyond words when he did so without complaining Eames slid into the water, automatically wrapping one arm around Arthur's waist as he pressed the point man back against the support of his chest as they fit their bodies together.

Making a sound of contentment as the heat of the water warmed him up, Eames closed his eyes as he concentrated on that and the feel of the other man's body pressed up against his own. It had been far too long.

As weird as it was this had always been his favorite thing to do with Arthur aside from the sex. And even sometimes more than the sex he'd loved being with the other man like this, Eames silently admitted, relaxing after a hard day's work in the bath together, sex probably on the menu but even if it wasn't…even if it wasn't that was okay too because this was real intimacy. This was just them being together for the sake of being together. Arthur wasn't the cuddling type in bed, but here he was allowed to hold his favorite point man in his arms. It was moments like this that he'd clung to when he'd wondered just how Arthur really felt about him.

Now he knew for sure and all it had taken was a near limbo miss and a car crash.

That just figured.


	3. Forging A Deal

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations all characters get in.

Forging A Deal

Neither knew quite what to say to the other, and it went without saying that they were both very aware of the fact that they weren't wearing any clothing and that with Arthur's concussion they couldn't start something with their former lover which was what they wanted to do. Plus both were well aware of the fact that there were words that still needed to be said and explanations that needed to be made, but the two men were so damn tired that they didn't want to get into any of that. They'd fought enough for one day.

"So where did you go?" Arthur finally asked, unable to bear the tension of their present silence. It was torture enough as it was, being so close to the man physically while they were so far apart on the inside. "Your note didn't say where you went, and you weren't gone long." He'd deliberately waited until the man was gone to wash up for the very reason that he didn't want the man around to insist on helping him.

"I arranged for an acquaintance of mine to meet me with my new travel papers. I wasn't planning on sticking around here for long."

Judging that this was a safe enough topic Arthur opted to keep on the subject. "Me neither. I was headed for France. You?"

A short but telling pause followed before Eames answered. "I was going to head down to the tropics, see where the winds would take me. I haven't been that ways in a while."

Swallowing hard as he was flooded with memories of his time in St. Lucia with the forger Arthur was insanely glad that he wasn't facing the man. He'd planned to go back down there once he got back from Europe, face the past there and see whether or not it could be overcome, especially when it came to the house.

"Have you already missed your flight down there or were you planning on spending a few days here first?"

"My plane leaves tomorrow evening. You're coming with me and I've already bought your ticket. Don't argue."

A variety of responses occurred to Arthur, most of them revolving around the need to express how much it pissed him off that not only had his opinion not been asked, but that the man was deluded enough to think for a moment that he would let himself be ordered around. That there were few things he would like more than to revisit St. Lucia with the man didn't matter, it was the principle of the point.

But he managed to swallow the worst of it, speaking out of grinched teeth. "And you expect me to just come with you why?"

"Because according to you, you love me."

Shit.

Cracking his knuckles as he clenched and unclenched his fingers in a small demonstration of his feelings at the moment Arthur mentally started counting, getting well past fifty before he was sure he could speak in sentences made up of more than four letter words. "That doesn't give you the right to decide things for me."

Eames's voice was just as chilly. "You thought it gave you the right to decide what was best for me, remember? Consider this only fair."

Oh yeah, fate was so incapable of cutting him a break, Arthur thought as he looked up towards the heavens for strength. Looks like they weren't going to be able to enjoy their bath after all. Big surprise.

That he couldn't argue that he'd made decisions in the past for Eames own good was true, but if he pointed out that he'd been right to do what he'd done the forger was liable to drown him in the tub.

He wasn't an idiot, even without the concussion he wasn't a match for Eames physically. The military and special ops the Englishman had been involved in had trained the man very well in that regard. If he were honest he owed much of his own skill in those areas to time spent observing the forger in action or lessons his former lover had insisted on giving him. So it was indeed entirely possible that Eames could knock him out and get him south without him having a chance in hell of stopping him. It might mean a private plane so there wouldn't be any questions, but Eames could undoubtedly pull it off and was more than capable of doing so if that's what it took to get him what he wanted.

And even if he slipped through Eames's fingers somehow, the man would hunt him down and then there really would be hell to pay.

"Why is it so important that I come with you?" Arthur asked instead, belatedly realizing that Eames knew him well enough to know how he'd react to the travel plans. The forger had done nothing to charm or talk him into it, and that wasn't like the man at all. Eames was more smooth and cunning then that.

"You'd think, given that you say you love me, that you'd want to come with me." Eames shot back, avoiding the question.

Luck was on the forger's side and the statement temporarily distracted Arthur from his point. "I didn't say I didn't want to go, I said that I didn't like you deluding yourself into thinking that you are in any way, shape, or form, the boss of me."

"Because you choosing Cobb to be the boss of you worked out so well for you."

Without thinking Arthur tried to twist around so that he could glare at the man while he was yelling at him, his vision immediately blurring as his head and body exploded with pain.

In a flash Arthur found himself being yanked up against the man's chest once more only this time he was sideways, one of Eames's arms wrapped around his waist to keep him there while the other cradled/forced his head against the man's broad shoulder, holding it there as the world slowly came back into focus and the pain receded enough that Arthur could unclench his teeth least a whimper escape.

"Okay, we're getting out of the tub now."

The point man opted not to argue. For the moment.

)

Eames got out of the tub first and then helped Arthur out, thankful that the man didn't refuse his help as he kept a steadying hand on the point man's shoulder as he stepped out. Arthur was generally the sort who picked his battles and fighting over the help he obviously needed would be a stupid move on his part. And stupid was generally not a word one used to describe Arthur, though at the moment Eames could think of several reasons to call the man precisely that.

But not being an idiot Eames let Arthur's arm go as soon as he was sure the man would be okay and then retrieved a large towel from the nearby rack, offering it to the other man.

Too used to being naked around the man to be the least bit self conscious about his lack of clothing Arthur carefully dried himself off, leaving his hair to air dry since there was no way on God's green earth he was going to try drying it with the towel. Washing it had been bad enough. He was looking pathetic enough as it was without him whimpering like a little girl.

Watching the man closely as he toweled himself off as well, Eames's eyes narrowed as he caught side of a scar he'd failed to notice earlier. It was high on the man's back, and distressingly close to Arthur's heart. Moving in Eames ran a finger over the wound, recognizing it for what it was. "Someone stabbed you in the back."

"More like someone threw a knife into my back." Arthur automatically corrected as he wrapped the damp towel around his waist to distract himself from the other man's touch. "It didn't hit anything major, just some muscle damage."

"What the hell kind of trouble were you and Dom getting into while I was in Africa?" Eames demanded to know, sick to think of Arthur being in a situation where he was in trouble and not being around to protect him.

"A lot of trouble." Was Arthur's blunt response, not about to go into any of the details. "Hence the fact that we got mixed up with Saito in the first place."

Swiping a hand through his hair Eames glared at the mark before turning meeting Arthur's eyes when the man turned around to face him fully. "You should have gotten in touch with me if it got that bad. Dammit, Arthur, you should have trusted me to take care of both of you if that's what you needed me to do. I never gave you any fucking cause to think you couldn't."

"It wasn't about trust." Arthur firmly reminded him, trying to get that through his thick skull. "I think I've made it clear by now that I trust you with my life. I'd rather take the knife to the back then have you take it for me because my former partner's an idiot."

"You were mine to fucking protect." Eames snarled, jerking Arthur up against him before the other man had a chance to stop him or remind him that he wasn't physically up to being manhandled at the moment. The words that formed on Arthur's lips were cut off as Eames's lips descended to cover his in a fierce, controlling kiss that conveyed complete possession and zero tenderness.

When Arthur tried to take a step back Eames just shifted his hold, placing a hand on either side of the point man's face so that the man wasn't going anywhere until he allowed it. And that was going to be a long time coming.

The single step was the only attempt Arthur made to break off the contact, the point man surrendering under the force of the kiss that was meant to punish him for his past actions. He knew that was the point of the contact and he allowed it because he couldn't argue that the man had every right to lash out at him. He'd apparently damaged more than just Eames's pride when he'd broken up with him, and for that alone he would take his punishment without complaint, especially since it meant he could once again feel the man's lips against him.

As pathetic as it was he'd take what he could get.

Ending the kiss as abruptly as he'd started it Eames stared into Arthur's eyes for several heartbeats, not surprised that the man's eyes were as devoid of emotion as his own were, both of them refusing to let the other see what they were really thinking and feeling.

And pissed at himself for kissing the man in the first place, he'd never been good at stopping at just kissing where Arthur was concerned, Eames had to turn and head towards the bedroom before he broke and did or said something that would let his former lover see more than he was ready for him to see.

"I'll get you something to wear to bed."

There was no way he was going to be able to share a bed with Arthur if they weren't both clothed.

)

Later, when it was actually time for him to be sleeping, Arthur just lay awake in the bed, unable to do so despite the fact that it was early morning. He couldn't even pretend to because his brain was so busy with other things that it refused to spare any of its power to even attempt to present the illusion that he wasn't awake and aware. And he wasn't the only one, Arthur thought to himself, well aware that the man lying beside him, with a tight hold on his hand, was only cat napping. Eames had taken it after shutting off the lights, explaining it away as a precaution to alert him if he tried to leave during the night.

The point man had still to make up his mind as to whether that was simply an excuse to touch him or not.

"Is too much sleep keeping you awake, or the hand holding?" Not that he had any intention of letting it go, Eames silently acknowledged, but Arthur had always said he didn't like sleeping with someone too close to him, that it made him feel crowded in.

"The former. I've gotten over my aversion to having someone touching me while I sleep." And quickly realizing how that sounded, not to mention the way his hand was suddenly being squeezed to a painful degree, Arthur elaborated. "It wasn't a lover that got me used to it, it was Dom."

Okay, now he was really confused. Opening his eyes Eames turned his head to look in Arthur's direction even though it was too dark in the room to make out anything but the man's shape. Plus the man was lying with his back to him, just to make his feelings that much more obvious. He really shouldn't have kissed him earlier and Arthur was making that quite clear.

"Why would you be sharing a bed with Cobb?" Eames asked after he failed to come up with a logical explanation himself.

"He was married to Mal for nearly ten years. When he lost her he lost himself too. He got drunk a lot the first couple months and when he did he'd either pass out wherever he was at the time or he'd crawl into bed with me. He couldn't stand sleeping alone and nothing I did could keep him on the other side of the bed for long. I didn't have the heart to kick him out so I got used to someone snuggling up against my back."

He was still too pissed off at the man in question to feel as sorry for the man as he might have before Cobb had nearly sent them all into limbo. And even though he knew that Cobb was straight as a ruler, and that he wasn't remotely Arthur's type, Eames seriously couldn't help but dislike the idea of any man being that close to his man under any circumstances. It was that thought that prompted the question that had been turning around in the forger's head since he'd started the Fischer job, one he'd forced himself not to ask.

But now that he knew how Arthur felt about him…he might actually be able to bear the answer.

"I would imagine your lovers since then have appreciated your new ability to cuddle." Eames couldn't come right out and ask if he'd truly been replaced in Arthur's bed, but he'd seen nothing to indicate the man was seeing anyone in the past few weeks. Oh please God let there be no one.

"Fishing, Mr. Eames?" Arthur quietly asked, seeing right through the query.

"You know I hate fishing, Darling." Was Eames's oh so innocent reply.

Arthur was quiet for a moment and then figured he might as well give the man what he wanted since he was already screwed anyway. Eames knew he loved him after all, the truth couldn't damn him more. "I haven't had a lover other than you in a long time. I lied about being involved with someone because I knew it would ensure you didn't push the issue."

"You know, Arthur, you keep saying things that both please and piss me the hell off. It's a real talent of yours."

He couldn't have stopped the small smile from forming if he tried. "I've thought the same about you many times, Eames. Many times."

All was quiet for a few minutes before Eames spoke again.

"So are you willing to come with me tomorrow under your own steam?"

"Will we be even if I come with you without trying to make it as difficult as possible for you?" He didn't like the fact that on top of Eames knowing how he felt about him he also owed the man for sticking by him after his accident and taking care of him. Owing Eames could be a very bad thing and wiping that slate clean was definitely in his best interests.

Eames had to think about that one since he knew the value of having the other man continue to owe him. But he also didn't want to sign his own death warrant by forcing his former lover to do something the man really was set against doing. Not that Arthur would actually kill him, but he was a genius and very creative when it came to paying people back when he was pissed.

"You'd have to stay with me for at least two weeks for the slate to be wiped clean. It will take us that long to sort everything out." Despite the years they'd spent in each other's company they still weren't great at arguing like rational adults. They were just too good at finding each other's buttons and using them to their own advantage.

On the one hand spending two weeks with the man would be the most painful of tortures, but on the other he'd left the airport thinking that death or limbo was preferable to a life without the Brit in his life. Two weeks spent arguing with Eames was still two weeks with him. And maybe they wouldn't spend more than the first week arguing, maybe they'd even part on decent terms. If that was the case then he could possibly see the man in the years to come, if only as casual friends.

Okay, that was probably wishful thinking on his part, Arthur silently acknowledged, but Eames obviously must have some ulterior motive for wanting him to come with him and he wasn't going to find out what that was if he tried to escape from the forger.

And he owed Eames on a number of levels. "Fine. You have my word. Two weeks." He lifted his free hand up and offered it across his body, silently praying that he wasn't jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire.

No one, after all, had ever made him burn like Eames.


	4. Familiar Circumstances

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations all characters get in.

Familiar Circumstances

As the rising sun signaled dawn outside the hotel Arthur was caught in the state between being awake and sleeping, the point man sensing on some level the hand that was moving under his clothing and over his body. The feeling was welcome; he knew the fingers moving across his flesh as well as he knew his own. The hand was Eames, its touch intimate and knowing as it caressed and stroked, arousing him slowly but surely as small fire were kindled. And then the hand was sliding down his chest and under the sweatpants he wore, the small flames flaring with new life as Arthur felt the forger's clever fingers wrap around his growing erection, the point man knowing what was to come.

The aches that made themselves known throughout his slightly battered body as he moved were pushed to the side with the single minded focus he was so known for, Arthur's brain refusing to acknowledge the pain when it could be basking in the pleasure starting to course through his body like potent liquor.

Moaning low in his throat as his lover moved his hand up and down his shaft with sure and steady pressure Arthur gladly gave himself over to the pleasure, whispering encouragement and pleas for more. On some level he was aware of the fact that this wasn't a dream, that it was real, and rather than have him struggling to wake the rest of the way Arthur clung to his dreamlike state fiercely so that it would continue. It had been far too long since he'd gotten himself off, and even longer since the hands touching him so intimately were not his own. God how he'd craved the man's touch, and now that he had it he could feel the premature orgasm building, the knowledge of who was pleasuring him going straight to his head.

The power of his orgasm jolted him to a new level of awareness, more and more of Arthur's brain acknowledging the fact that this wasn't taking place in his head and that this really was Eames's body pressed up against his back, that it was the forger's hand now sliding between their bodies, the wet fingers massaging the tight ring of muscle between his ass cheeks that would allow them to join their bodies together.

Stifling his reactions to the fingers working inside of him Arthur concentrated solely of relaxing as much as possible, knowing his lover was being as gentle as possible because Eames would never be otherwise with him now.

And Eames was always welcome inside of him. A part of him.

Shuddering when the fingers left him Arthur made no move to protest when the sweatpants he wore were jerked down his body to bare only his ass, ears tuned to the sound of rustling clothing as the other man did away with the shorts he'd been sleeping in.

Biting down on his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood Arthur's muffled moan seemed to echo in his ears as he felt Eames work his considerable erection inside of him, the point man unable to stop the way his body flexed around his lover even as it made its discomfort known as it was stretched further. But he refused to deny them this and slowly the pain became nonexistent as the rightness of what they were doing signaled in both their brains. And then Eames was finally all the way inside of Arthur, the former whispering how good he felt against the point man's ear, the words not mattering as much as the tone, the voice.

The fact that it was Eames saying them.

Reaching back around him Arthur stroked a hand over the stubble covered jaw and up until he grasped the other man's head, holding it tenderly as he absorbed the sensations that once again flooded his body as Eames began to move inside of him, the thrusts gentle and drawn out.

"Look at me, Luv."

The husky, need filled words washed over Arthur like a warm spring shower, jolting him the rest of the way awake so that he couldn't help but be aware on every level, in every fiber of his being what he was doing. What they were doing.

Twisting a little so that he could look in the other man's general direction Arthur could make out enough of Eames's face to see that the forger's eyes were open and on him, the room too shadowed for him to see what was in them. But he knew that his lover was in this too, and pulled Eames's head down so that he could join their lips too as he rocked back against the muscular body pressed against him, in him.

Silent connection made Arthur settled his head back on his pillow, his body moving to meet every slow, drawn out thrust while Eames's hand stroked up and down his thigh, pushing the sweats further and further down. Stroking his fingers through the man's short hair when Eames's head lowered to kiss along his neck Arthur petted and stroked to his heart's content, wallowing in this sweet foreplay that was leading up to a climax that promised to be as sweet as it was powerful.

Interrupting what they were doing to stop and kiss, to touch, it was only when the need became too great for either of them to control that they let themselves go and lost themselves in the other as their climaxes took hold of them and refused to let them go until they were worn out and incapable of holding a single thought as they drifted off and back asleep in each other's arms.

)

It was a couple hours later and having woken up once more Eames didn't know what the hell he was supposed to say. Somehow he didn't think an apology would go over well, and that would make the whole thing seem a lot more calculating then it had been. It had just happened, at least in the beginning. When they'd been together as a couple they'd had plenty of sex while they were weren't completely awake even without the dream machine's help. Back then they'd had a damn hard time keeping their hands to themselves even while they'd slept. His brain had just processed the fact that Arthur was there, that they were in bed together, and the fact that he really, really wanted to shag him. He'd needed to shag his man as much as he'd needed his next breath and his body had acted accordingly. He didn't even really remember all of it clearly up until he'd had his fingers inside his lover, his brain processing the fact that that was not something he wanted to miss. What had followed, okay he'd been aware enough that he probably should have stopped it or at least confirmed that Arthur was with him more than he had. So sue him, he was only human.

Even awake his brain hadn't been functioning at peak efficiency thanks to most of his blood having headed south earlier.

And it really didn't help the present situation that Arthur was still on his bloody side with his back to him, basically pretending that he wasn't even there and that what had happened hadn't.

He knew Arthur was awake as well, he could feel it.

Which was why he'd withdrawn the arm he'd draped around the other man's waist after their lovemaking, feeling like he should since Arthur had let go of it. Because as he much as he might want to pretend that it was just his lover not liking to be crowded in, Eames knew it was the man's way of making it clear he regretted what they'd done earlier.

And that was really starting to piss him off.

"You know, Arthur, it's a pity your birthday isn't sooner. I'd get you a nice new stick to shove up that tight ass of yours. The one you've got now has to be wearing down."

Arthur didn't bother to feign sleep, his response suggesting immediate harm in Eames's future if he didn't watch his step. "The only thing I had up my ass was you, and that, plus the events that occurred yesterday, are some very good reasons why it wouldn't be a good idea to push me right now."

It took Eames a moment, but when the man's words fully registered the Englishman flinched, realizing what he'd done. Arthur had been in a car accident the day before, he had to be sore as hell. And on top of that the man had said he hadn't had a lover since him and the man had never been the type to bring toys into the bedroom so it was probably a safe bet that the only thing entering Arthur's ass recently were the man's own fingers. He'd been gentle, but still…

"Ah hell, Darling, I'm fucking sorry, I didn't even…ah hell, have I hurt you?" His sincerity and worry obvious Eames sat up, wanting to touch but afraid to do so least he make the whole thing that much worse. Things were bad enough as it was and getting worse by the second it seemed.

Responding to that worry Arthur forced himself to turn so that he was lying on his back, masterfully hiding the aches that intensified as he looked up at the shadowy figure whose intense gaze he could feel like hands all over his body, searching for his hurts and wanting to make them better. "I'm fine."

"I'm not Dom, Arthur, I am aware of other people besides my bleeding self." Eames shot back, shifting so that he could reach over Arthur and turn on the light on the bedside table, needing to be able to see the other man's face clearly.

The sudden light had both men blinking to adjust to the brightness, eyes going back to connect with the other once they did.

"Now tell me again how you're feeling."

Arthur sighed, knowing the man wouldn't drop it unless they started fighting, and he had the beginnings of a headache already without adding to it. "I was banged up enough yesterday that the fact that my ass is sorer now really doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things. Everywhere aches. And I'm as much to blame for what happened earlier as you are, for not stopping things once I realized what was going on."

"Why didn't you? I had to have been hurting you." And that had him feeling lower than a filthy sewer rat, especially since he'd seen for himself when they'd been in the tub how bruised and stiff the other man was. So why hadn't the point man stopped him?

A number of excuses came to mind, many of them at least based in truth, but in the end Arthur answer was one stripped of all pretense or excuses. "I didn't want you to stop."

Eames stared down at the other man for a moment and then looked away, swiping a tired hand through his mussed hair. What the hell was he supposed to say to that?

Obviously thinking along the same lines Arthur shifted back so that he was once again resting on his side, which was more comfortable than any other position at the moment. "You should go back to sleep, you'll feel better and we have things to take care of later. I have a package to pick up before we leave."

"What's in the package?"

"My real identity."

Raising an eyebrow over this Eames couldn't help be curious, especially since with all his contacts he'd never been able to find out anything about his lover before he'd started working with Cobb. Oh there had been plenty of dead ends to follow, false information planted for anyone who might care to look, but in the end what he knew about Arthur's past was from the man himself or one of the Cobbs. In truth he didn't even know what Arthur's last name actually was, though the man had assured him that Arthur really was his given name.

"You'll be traveling with me as yourself then?"

"That's the plan."

"Good."  
>)<p>

Both men tried and failed to go back to sleep, finally giving up the pretense that they weren't on edge due to everything that had happened in the last day and a half. They'd both been rubbed raw emotionally and while the sex had been damn good at the time neither man was stupid enough to think that it had solved all their problems. Sex had never been their problem. It was once they weren't having sex and actually trying to coexist that things tended to get sticky, and not in a good way. Most of their relationship had been in fits and starts thanks to their work, and neither of them was any good at expressing their emotions unless they were fighting, which in theory they knew was bad but couldn't seem to change. They also both had the annoying habit of closing each other out when they were upset or feeling vulnerable too, which was why Arthur borrowed the man's laptop to hack into the airport's database to change his information there while Eames headed to the bathroom to shower and shave rather than either of them rather than take another stab at discussing anything important.

That the two men were calling themselves some very unflattering names as they went about their business would be a massive understatement.

Standing in front of the mirror Eames finished shaving, rubbing a hand over his now smooth jaw to make sure he hadn't missed any spots, a wry smile curving his lips. He'd been sporting stubble and parting his hair to the side since he and Arthur had broken up because he knew that Arthur disliked both looks. It had been stupid and petty, but he had never minded being petty and most people were stupid in comparison to his ex's genius.

And while going clean shaven and styling his hair more naturally with his bangs down wasn't much of a peace offering…Arthur was too obsessed with one's personal appearance not to notice and understand that it was his subtle way of saying he was going to make the effort not to deliberately try and piss the man off today.

That he'd probably do it accidentally went without saying.

With a towel around his waist since it had seemed way too girlie to bring his change of clothes in with him, Eames took a steadying breath, reminded himself that he was perfectly capable of not being an ass, and headed out of the bathroom to get dressed and face the new day.

Having finished his business with the airport already Arthur was in the process of logging out of his email after deleting all of Dom's messages without reading them when he heard the bathroom door open, looking up automatically and immediately wishing that he hadn't.

Oh damn. Talk about bringing sexy back.

Feeling drool well up in his mouth Arthur quickly dropped his gaze back to the screen, mentally cursing a blue streak even as his mind processed the fact that it had to have been a deliberate move on the forger's part. Part of him wanted to assume that Eames was trying to make him suffer by reminding him that he could be the sexiest man on earth when he put effort into his appearance, but going with his gut Arthur knew the real message and was torn between being glad and annoyed that the man was sure to be hit on a lot in the coming two weeks.

Not to mention the fact that taking on his old identity meant altering his own appearance and not for the better.

At the time of his decision he hadn't cared because he hadn't thought Eames would be around to see him and he hadn't been interested in trying to hook up with anyone while in Europe. He'd decided to go back to his original identity because he'd wanted to slip through the radar and fade into the background so that if Saito came looking for him he'd fail horribly. And while he could have gone with the ID Eames had retrieved from his jacket earlier, he couldn't guarantee that his former employer didn't know that alias and saw no reason to risk it.

The man was not someone he wanted to ever run into again under any circumstances.

Wearing nothing but jeans Eames walked over to the bed, slipping a simple black T-shirt over his head as he did so. He might prefer his own style of clothing, but like Arthur he knew the advantages of blending in and it was a lot easier to do in jeans and a tee when you were in America. "So got everything sorted out with the airport?" Not that he doubted the man's skill, but it was a safe enough topic.

"No problem." And forcing himself to look up Arthur met Eames gaze. "Do you trust me to go somewhere and come back? I…wouldn't mind the company but if you have any other errands to attend to before our flight I can manage easily enough if I take a taxi and move slowly." Probably.

Holding the younger man's gaze Eames didn't have to think about it. "I trust you but I'll come anyway, just in case you run into any trouble. Where are we going?"

"The parking lot of a hotel, it's about a twenty five minute drive from here. I arranged to have a car there with a suitcase packed with everything I'll need in the trunk. I'll have a couple changes of clothes then, enough to get me by until we arrive at our destination and I can do some shopping."

It went without saying that there was no way in hell he would trust Eames to shop for him, and he wasn't up to dealing with the task yet.

Lips twitching Eames inclined his head. "Then let's see what I have that will suit you well enough that you won't die a social death if someone sees you in them, shall we?"


	5. The Truth

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the plot. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy and let me know what you think.

The Truth

The drive to the other hotel was done in silence, Arthur concentrating on not giving away how much pain he was in and Eames lost in his own thoughts, knowing that most of them couldn't be voiced anyways because of the driver. Plus they seemed to be jinxed where taxis were concerned, and neither of them wanted a repeat of the last two times they'd spent time in one, the forger thought ruefully. Better not to tempt the fates by thinking or doing anything that might be used against them.

Pulling up in front of the hotel's main entrance Eames paid the taxi and then sent it on the way since they'd be using the car Arthur had rented for the rest of the day. That done it was relatively easy to go in, collect the car key the point man had arranged to have waiting for him, and then together they headed back out the doors to find their new ride.

Arthur had deliberately chosen a regular sedan, not wanting to call attention to himself or risk someone stealing the vehicle before he could get to it. The last thing he'd wanted was for the sensitive information contained in the car's trunk to fall into the hands of car thieves.

And after the last few days they'd had that could have totally happened.

Their unspoken truce kept Eames from commenting about their new mode of transportation, though his expression said it all before he deftly nipped the key from Arthur's fingers so that he could use it to unlock the car's trunk, knowing the man would want to make sure that everything that was supposed to be there was present.

Understanding that Eames was making it clear he was going to be doing the driving Arthur didn't have the energy to argue even if he'd wanted to. Not that he'd intended to drive in the first place, it would be too dangerous. He probably wouldn't pass out, but he wasn't about to risk it.

So instead of arguing Arthur punched in the code for the medium sized metal case that sat beside the suitcase he'd also arranged for. Inside was a laptop, the pockets built into the top of the case full of bound stacks of American, Euro and Canadian currency, as well as two different passports. Pulling out each stack in turn Arthur fanned them out to make sure everything was in order before stuffing some of the US bills into his pocket, intending to use it to repay Eames for the money the man had already spent on his behalf. A quick look at the passports confirmed they were as they should be, no obvious signs of tampering anywhere.

"Need to look over the suitcase?"

"No. It's just clothes." Closing the case Arthur motioned for Eames to shut the lid. "We can go now."

Eames waited until they were both in the car and buckled in before he sent a questioning look in Arthur's direction. "Three different kinds of currency, Darling?"

"It never hurts to be prepared, Mr. Eames."

"That is one of your defining characteristics." Eames agreed as he put the key in the ignition and started the car.

"Very perspicacious of you."

Groaning low in his throat Eames thought about pointing out that the bastard KNEW how sexy he found it when the man used very big words whose meaning usually escaped him, but they were supposed to be behaving so he said nothing, settling for sending the other man a dark, 'you'll pay for that' look.

And not doubting it for a moment Arthur concentrated on trying to get comfortable, which proved to be a pointless endeavor but gave him something to do beside talk to or look at Eames as the forger drove them out of the parking lot and started back the way they'd come.

They didn't talk the whole drive either, the silence more uncomfortable since they didn't have the taxi driver as an excuse. Neither knew what to say or how to begin.

When they arrived back at their hotel Arthur didn't make a word of protest when Eames insisted on carrying his things, knowing better then to even try. He was all right when he wasn't moving but when he was it became very apparent that yes, he'd been in a car accident the day before and he had the bruised and battered body to prove it. Thank God they were flying first class that night or he'd really be screwed. At the moment he would bet all his money that there would be no way he'd be able to sit up straight for that long a flight without paying for it big time.

Or asking Eames to knock him out since he couldn't take hard drugs yet, Arthur silently added ruefully. Given the mood the man was in half the time the forger would probably be more than willing.

"Pain bad?"

"I'm going to lie down as much as possible today to rest up for tonight. So long as I don't have to support my own weight and move too much I should be fine."

Taking that to mean the man was indeed in a fair amount of pain Eames didn't bother his former lover with questions or well meant offers. The man had more than enough pride for three men. That Arthur was letting him carry his stuff for him was rare as it was. His darling never liked to lean on him in any way.

Once they were in their room Arthur trusted Eames to put his stuff away for him, heading straight for the bed. Stretching out the point man made a small sound of relief as his head and body quieted, his eyes closing to block out the light and his surroundings.

Leaving him to it Eames put the man's stuff away and then got out his laptop so that he could fool around on it to pass the time until they needed to start preparing to leave.

)

Hours later, when he couldn't put it off any longer, Arthur finally rose from the bed and stiffly walked over to retrieve his new suitcase before heading for the bathroom. Closing the door behind him the point man headed for the shower after carefully stripping out of Eames's clothes, knowing that he was in no condition to just lean over the side of the tub to wash the hair product out of his hair. So instead he quickly showered and then carefully dried off, studying the bruising in the large bathroom mirror with a wince. It was really no wonder Eames hadn't put the moves on him until they were half asleep and in the dark. He was definitely not looking his best and was now going to look that much worse.

He knew he was vain. He wasn't an idiot after all. But there were far worse vices to have and there was nothing wrong with always wanting to look one's best.

Or so he kept telling everyone who felt the need to make a crack about his usually impeccable wardrobe.

Oh if they could only see him now, Arthur thought as he donned his ordinary black boxer briefs before pulling simple, well used looking jeans on. He'd gone for a size too big because the baggy look was in but it was good because it made them more comfortable to wear. After that it was the simple black T-shirt that nearly matched the one Eames was sporting.

Now for the worst part.

Sitting on the toilet seat's lid just in case he started to black out Arthur carefully used the hairdryer to blow dry his hair, gritting his teeth hard against the pain as he moved his head as carefully as possible, setting the tool aside as soon as he could.

Resting for a few moments after that Arthur waited for the pain to once again recede before shakily getting to his feet, using the counter for support as he moved to stand before the mirror to study the results. His fingers actually itched to style it but he resisted, retrieving the simple black glasses with fake lenses that completed the look from the suitcase before heading back out with the case in his hand.

Having been eagerly waiting for Arthur to come out so that he could see what the man had been up to Eames took one look at his former lover and broke into delighted laughter. "Jesus, Mary and Joseph, Darling! You…you…look like a bleeding university student. You're wearing glasses and you look like-." He couldn't finish the sentence, he was laughing too hard.

And he so did, Eames marveled, taking in the simple, ordinary clothes, the fact that they looked used and didn't fit the man's form perfectly. Though it was really the hair and glasses that were throwing him for a loop, the messy locks so at odds with their usual, slicked back style. And the glasses definitely made his man look younger and decidedly adorable, which was not a word one generally thought when it came to Arthur. He looked like he belonged in front of a computer or at a D and D tournament.

He had always had one of those faces that made him easy to fudge his age, looking younger or older than he was depending on his needs as he pursued his life of crime. He was currently looking much closer to his actual age at the moment and it belatedly occurred to Arthur that he had never actually told the other man his true age.

Opps.

Picking up on the thought that had just occurred to Arthur Eames's eyes narrowed as all trace of humor disappeared from his face. "What's that look for?"

"If I said nothing would you believe me?" Arthur inquired, already knowing the answer.

The look Eames gave him said it all.

"Didn't think so." Restraining himself from running a hand through his hair, it was supposed to be messy and uncombed, Arthur sighed and then answered. "It just occurred to me that you think I'm thirty years old. I'm actually only twenty seven, I lied about my age so that Dom would take me on and I got so used to going by that age that I didn't think to tell you it was otherwise."

"Twenty seven? You're twenty seven years old!" Heat flashed into Eames's eyes as he absorbed the latest bomb to be dropped on him. "You're seven years younger than me!"

"It's not like you were cradle robbing, Eames. I was well over twenty before we started sleeping together." Arthur pointed out, knowing that his head wouldn't be able to tolerate being yelled at. And apparently the man really didn't like the difference in their ages if the creative swearing coming from the forger's lips was any indication.

Logically he knew that the man was right but Eames couldn't help but be royally pissed, if for no other reason than he'd just learned that he hadn't even known his former lover's true age. Just one more secret Arthur had kept from him. One more lie he'd told.

And okay, it was a little annoying to find out there was such an age gap because it made him feel every one of his thirty four years.

When he was sure he could speak without relying completely on his four letter vocabulary Eames pinned Arthur in place with the force of his stare. "Okay, I'm only going to ask this once. You only have this one chance. Is there ANYTHING else about you that you've lied about or not told me that I should know? I want to know now before anything else happens. Keep something from me and I find out about it…you won't like how I'll react one little bit, I can promise you that."

Seeing that the man was serious, not doubting for a moment that he was, Arthur's undeniably brilliant mind buzzed with activity as he came up with a mental list of all the things that could possibly fall under that heading.

"Arthur."

"I'm thinking, give me a moment."

Eames's fingers opened and closed into fists as he processed the fact that the list of deceptions might be a long one. "If this is where you tell me that you're married, are somehow related to me, or was once a woman but had a sex change I'm going to be pissed beyond even your level of comprehension."

Despite the tenseness of the situation Arthur couldn't help but roll his eyes. "You've been watching Jerry Springer again, haven't you? I've told you that crap will rot your brain out if you don't stop."

"It's entertaining, and don't change the bloody subject."

In his mind Arthur could think of only one thing that would really trip him up in the end. But not wanting to say it the point man decided to reveal it in as roundabout a way as possible. "I did wear glasses but I got laser eye surgery when I was twenty. I don't think you're as bad a gambler as I say you are, and I have seen people dress worse than you. I bought the house in St. Lucia from you through one of my shell companies and I hate your taste in music but I put up with it since I knew you hated my taste just as much."

"What do you mean…you bought the house from me?"

Crap. "I was notified when you put it on the market after we broke up and I bought it from you. I would have paid more, you should have made me work for it."

Okay, joking about it had not been one of his better ideas, Arthur thought as he watched his words register.

His face an impenetrable mask that he'd forged in his years of military and covert service, Eames moved in so that they were nose to nose. "Why did you buy that house?"

Swallowing hard Arthur answered with words that rang with brutal honesty, sensing that the man would accept nothing less. Probably deserved nothing less after all he'd put him through. "Because it was ours. I contacted the friend of yours that we rented it from after our vacation there, he wouldn't sell it though. But it was ours so I got in touch with the best real estate companies in that area and left contact information so that I would be informed if by chance it were to ever be put on the market. I assume you bought it from your friend in a deal between the two of you so I didn't even know it was yours until I was contacted and told who the new owner was. I thought that you'd refuse to sell it to me if you knew I was the buyer so I used a different name so you wouldn't know it was me. Europe was going to be just a quick trip to cut some loose threads. I was always going to go back there, to stay if possible. I haven't been there in person since our vacation."

The forger held their eye contact for a few more heartbeats and then Eames took a couple steps back and turned to give Arthur his back, his hand rising to run his fingers through his hair as he slowly shook his head.

What came out of Eames's mouth moments later was far too harsh and pained to be called laughter. It was the sort of sound one made while marveling at the incredible cruelty fate was capable of inflicting on mere mortals.

And not knowing what to say Arthur simply said the man's name quietly, questioningly.

Slowly turning around once more Eames was still shaking his head as he spoke. "You were going to live there, make your home there. Without me. Of all the places in all the fucking world…you picked there in the cruelest of bloody ironies. Go figure, really."

"I picked it because of you." Arthur informed him, the man's tone and face tearing into him so that he found himself speaking without thinking. "I wanted the house because my happiest memories are there. Because we were never so happy together as we were there. I left that fucking airport yesterday thinking that was all I was ever going to have, those memories of what was. And I don't even know if I'll be able to stand living there without you but I was damn well going to try."

"I hounded my friend into selling it to me in the first place because of you, ironically enough." Eames shot back, a sarcastic smirk curving his lips as his mind went back to those days. Relived it. "I bought it for us, Darling. That last job, well I started it with the fucking deed in my fucking suitcase. I knew we'd still be working during your birthday and I was going to give it to you then as a present, ask you to come live with me there in between jobs, make it our home. I thought by then Dom would be fine on his own and hell, at that point I was willing to let him live with us too if that's what it took. I was sick of only seeing you on jobs or brief vacations. Sick of having the man I loved more than anything or anyone away from me all the time. I sold it because I couldn't stand to have it in my possession, to be there without you. But you got the house anyway- sorry you had to pay for it."

Eyes widening behind the glasses Arthur swallowed hard as he struggled to process what had just been said. The enormity of how badly his decisions had royally fucked up his life hit him mercilessly from all sides, making the room spin as he was crushed under the weight of Eames's harsh words.

He couldn't even get angry at the man for not telling him he loved him back then because he'd done exactly the same thing.

"I didn't know you loved me." Arthur just barely managed to get out, his broken voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't know and I'm so sorry I didn't. Sorrier then you'll ever know."


	6. The Truth Is Out

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations all characters get in.

The Truth Is Out

Oh but he was sorry. There were no words for how sorry he was. He'd thought he understood just how much pain a body could feel, but looking into Eames's eyes, knowing what he'd done to the love of his life, Arthur discovered that he'd been wrong. Knowing you'd done harm to someone who'd loved you, knowing you'd not only thrown that love in his face but that you'd lost something so precious forever when you hadn't even known you possessed it in the first place…that was an agony that could never, ever be put into words.

There would be no friendship or peaceful parting, couldn't be now that they both knew the truth. As it was Arthur couldn't believe the man hadn't beaten the crap out of him at the very least. Hell, if he'd had a gun on him he would have been tempted to pull it out and put it to his own head, a quick bullet to the brain better than the thought of continuing this hellish, silent standstill.

Wrapping his arms around his waist Arthur hugged himself, feeling like he'd break apart if he didn't. He had no idea how he was still standing, but knowing that he couldn't stand there, watching Eames watch him with such cold and damning eyes.

Moving with all the finesse of a newborn colt, the point man's legs barely cooperated as he lurched forward, thinking to get to his bag and suitcase and then get the hell out of there so that Eames wouldn't have to suffer his presence a moment longer. That that was the least he could do, wasn't it?

That the man had even bothered to come to his aid the day before was a testament to how good a man Eames really was. It must have been agony being around him all this time and he hadn't known, so consumed with his own suffering that he'd selfishly not seen what he was doing to the person he loved most in the world.

He didn't deserve Eames. He didn't deserve to breathe the same air as him.

"Touch that bag and I'll break your fucking arm, Darling."

Hand freezing centimeters away from the bag in question Arthur didn't look at Eames as he responded to the cold threat he knew the man was more than capable of following through on. "You can't possibly want me here. Not after everything that happened."

"Maybe I want you to stick around so that I can yell at you some more. Think of that?"

Oh.

Straightening Arthur forced himself to move away from the bag, deliberately walking over so that he was in striking distance from his former lover. He'd rather take physical pain at this point, and Eames was a very physical man. It was cowardly of him, and would probably, later on, haunt the forger as he didn't believe in expressing anger that way, but Arthur was too weak not to take the easy way out.

Everything that had happened since Mal's death…he was just too damaged to want to remain in this wretched reality.

So forcing himself to meet the man's gaze once more Arthur stood still as stone, prepared to take whatever Eames wanted to dish out.

)

It surprised him that Arthur had moved in so close, but only for a moment. Most people would have the sense not to get into striking distance of someone as dangerous as him when he was this angry, and Arthur had more sense than most usually. So that meant the move was deliberate and Eames didn't have to guess why. The man was all but inviting him to take a swing at him because he'd rather take that than be hit by a verbal barrage. He'd feel the same in the point man's shoes. But he'd never physically struck his former lover outside of sparring in the past and he wasn't about to start now.

Even as angry as he was, the idea of raising a hand to Arthur in violence was physically repellent.

And now that he'd gotten over the initial shock about the house Eames could feel his anger dulling more by the second, thinking about how many times since he'd sold it that he'd regretted it, wishing that he'd held onto it for the same reason Arthur had apparently bought it. Because it was their place. Their happy place, as corny as it sounded. He couldn't begrudge the man for having it, not for that reason.

Belatedly realizing that they'd just been standing there for at least a couple minutes without speaking Eames studied Arthur, seeing that the younger man's shields were out in full force. "You're just going to stand there and take whatever I dish out? That's not you, Darling."

"I have more to answer for than I realized. Hearing you out is the least I can do."

"And you don't want to yell at me for not telling you sooner how I felt about you?" Seeing the surprise that flashed in Arthur's dark eyes Eames elaborated. "I was in love with you a couple months before I even bought the place. I could have told you then but I dragged my feet, not wanting to be the first to say it. Hoping that you would be. If I'd said it when I knew…things would have been different."

The faint smile that curved Arthur's lips was a sad one. "I knew how I felt about you by the end of our second job together. I'm afraid I remain most to blame, Mr. Eames."

"But-you-fuckin-why the hell didn't you tell me if you felt that way for so fucking long?" He couldn't wrap his mind around it. How could he, a trained observer, the top forger in the business, have missed this for so long?

"You could have anyone." Was Arthur's simple response. "I always expected you to get bored of me sooner or later, and when that happened…I was already wrapped around your finger enough as it was without you realizing it. I never believed you could love me back, that I could be what you wanted outside the bedroom. I'm a facts and figures man, and with the data I had I didn't see how it work without the feelings being mutual and I thought they weren't. If I had…if I had I wouldn't have ended things the way I did." That he would have still tried to end things to protect him was clear in Arthur's voice, even though he didn't outright say it.

"I could have anyone despite my complete lack of fashion sense, my inability to look before I leap, and my annoying habit of kicking people out of chairs for my own amusement?"

"There are worse flaws to have."

"True enough. But you know, Darling, it isn't like you to sell yourself short. Far from it in fact."

"Who said anything about me selling myself short?" Arthur responded, lifting a single eyebrow while his lips curved into a weak version of his usually potent 'I'm so much smarter then you' sneer. "I'm perfectly aware of every facet of my worth and character. I never sell myself short. On the contrary many people, including you, have told me a number of times that my sense of self worth is too high."

Since his brain was in relatively good working order at the moment Eames knew the man was right about that, but Arthur had just stated that he'd never felt he had a chance with him since apparently the point man thought he could have anyone he wanted. Therefore, Eames pointed out to Arthur, the man was contradicting himself.

Arthur would have shaken his head if he hadn't been doing his best to move it as little as possible. His headache was close enough to debilitating as it was without him moving unnecessarily.

"You misunderstood my earlier statement. I didn't mean that I wasn't worthy of you, I meant that I assumed that you didn't recognize my value because you're too shallow when it's come to the majority of your lovers." Arthur's smirk was definitely in place and superior now. "I'm brilliant and well educated, I speak three languages fluently and five more with enough skill to get by. I'm young, in excellent physical condition, and I'm considered by most to be both good looking and sexy. I have no major vices aside from you, I'm rich, and I'm a flexible, skilled, and giving lover who has never once been dumped or had complaints about my prowess in the bedroom. My only major drawbacks are that I was a criminal and that Dom was a part of my life, but I've severed both of those ties now and therefore I have no major flaws that would keep me from finding a partner to spend my life with…save for the fact that I can't seem to get over you." That thought had his smirk disappearing in a flash.

"So you can't get over me, Darling?"

"That is what I just said, yes."

Unable to help himself Eames had to chuckle, shaking his head over the mess they once again found themselves in. Moments before he'd wanted to strangle his former lover with his bare hands and now he just wanted to laugh and laugh at this latest example of the planet sized mass that was Arthur's ego. No one made him feel such a wide array of emotions, affected him so quickly and effortless.

Which just went to show that he and the point man were in the same boat, Eames acknowledged with a grin that got wider and wider as it truly sank in that maybe, just maybe, they hadn't lost their chance yet.

"I can't get over you either."

And closing the space between them Eames tenderly reached out, gently framing Arthur's face between his hands as he angled his head so that he could press their lips together, hope flaring inside him when he felt the other man's arms wrap around his waist without hesitation to keep him there.

He wasn't going anywhere without Arthur though, never again.

The passionate kissing was interrupted minutes later when Arthur moved his head the wrong way, pain exploding in his head so that he automatically turned his forger loose so that he could clutch his head, cursing with a descriptive vocabulary that made it clear that he'd learned a great deal about the art of swearing over years spent in the company of thieves.

When the pain was bearable Arthur gingerly attempted to distract himself by kissing Eames some more, not at all happy when the man held him off. "If we lay down it shouldn't be too bad." He wanted, needed to be close to Eames and there was no way he was letting his own body keep him from doing so. Now that he knew he hadn't completely blown it where Eames was concerned he wanted to kiss the man into submission until the forger promised to always be with him and never leave him no matter what stupid mistakes he might make in the future.

"The way we're both feeling we wouldn't stop at snogging, Darling." Eames pointed out firmly, not at all used to being the voice of reason in their relationship. "Consider the fact that you'll have to wait till your body's up to shagging your punishment for all your secret keeping." He teased.

"Get me some strong painkillers and it won't be a problem."

"No. You have a concussion. Besides, I'll use the time we would have spent shagging each other's brains out coming up with other ways I'm going to punish you for the rest of our lives together. And you know how I do so love to think outside the box so you need all the rest you can get, Darling."

"The rest of our lives together?" Arthur repeated, swallowing hard against the sudden tightness in his heart and chest.

"Till death do us part." Eames leaned in for a slow, soothing kiss, unspoken promises passing between them.

When their lips separated once again Arthur was smiling wryly. "So do I want to know what other punishments your busy little brain is coming up with?"

"Well for starters…every morning when we wake up and every night before we go to sleep you have to tell me that you love me. Oh, and no more making faces at me when I touch or kiss you in public. You're just going to get over your aversion to public displays of affection. I insist."

When Arthur made precisely the face Eames had been referring to the forger laughed and figured some more kissing was in order before he told his man the other 'punishments' he had in store for him.

)

A Day And A Half Later

The sports car they were driving was far too flashy for Arthur's taste, not to mention that he knew Eames well enough to know that the man wouldn't be able to resist opening up the engine sometime in the near future. He'd pointed out that that would probably be tempting fate given all the vehicle related accidents they'd been in recently but Eames had just brushed off his worries like they were nothing, pointing out that the majority of those car accidents had happened in their dreams and therefore didn't really count.

His lover had always been the sort who thought he could charm his way through anything.

And while normally he would have requested that if the man intended to race the car he do it when he wasn't in it…Arthur figured that if Eames was going to end up in a fiery wreck he wanted to be in the car with him.

On the heels of that thought was the decision to blame the lingering effects of his minor concussion for the first thought.

"So quiet, Darling."

Looking over at Eames, both their eyes hidden by the stylish sunglasses they was wearing, Arthur smirked. "You know I'm not the loquacious sort."

Reaching out Eames gave the man's upper thigh a warning squeeze. "You know I find it even sexier when it's a big word I've never heard any normal person use. Teasing while I'm driving roads like these isn't allowed or we will end up in the wreck you're convinced we'll get into."

"Loquacious means given to fluent or excessive talk. As in I'm glad you aren't overly loquacious because if you were you'd be too annoying for words."

"And you say it two more times just to push your luck."

Unable not to smile Arthur stroked his hand over Eames's before lifting it up to return it to the steering wheel. "Keep it there."

"Spoilsport."

When they pulled up to the familiar, crushed shell driveway half an hour later they both felt anticipation flow through their systems even as something wild in them settled down, sensing that they were finally home. The house that came into view was fairly simple considering the many developments and large estates close by, but the man who'd originally had built it had wanted a retreat that could be a home, and that was precisely what he'd gotten.

As soon as the car had come to a stop Arthur undid his seatbelt and got out, breathing deeply the exotic scents floating along with the salty sea breeze. The sea, the fauna, all so foreign and yet so familiar to him. In all his travels he could only remember Eames smelling better to him.

"Go on inside, I'll bring our stuff in."

Since he'd lost every argument they'd had about him carrying his own stuff since his accident, Arthur didn't even bother to protest, instead heading up to short path that led up to the front door. Pulling out the envelope he'd picked up earlier Arthur retrieved the house key and used it to let himself in, leaving the door open for Eames before turning his attention to deactivating the alarm system.

Once that was done Arthur briefly scanned the first floor before heading for the main set of stairs at the side of the house. As much as he loved the ground floor he wanted to be on the second, careful to hold the railing just in case his battered head decided to toy with him unexpectedly as he made his way to the top of the staircase without incident.

Heading straight for the master bedroom Arthur let himself in, breathing a sigh of relief as he took in the fact that time had virtually stood still here. The furniture had been left behind, only the sheets on the bed different. Walking over to the balcony doors Arthur opened them both wide and then returned to the bed, stretching out on the soft mattress that was a balm to his still bruised and battered body. After hours spent in cars and airplanes it was heaven to just be able to stretch out and relax.

Arthur was still stretched out with his face buried in his pillow when Eames came in with their stuff, the point man's lips curving into a smile when the other man's chuckles reached his ears.

Then the mattress dipped under Eames's weight as well as his lover stretched out beside him.

Waiting until Eames was settled Arthur shifted over and laid his head on the man's chest, placing one arm across the forger's lean waist. "It's the same."

"Just about." Closing his eyes in contentment Eames leaned his head against the top of Arthur's. "Made a brief check of the kitchen, the grounds bloke stocked it all up, just like we asked. Must have busted his arse to do it too given how little warning we gave him. We'll have to give him a nice bonus."

Of course he'd stop by the kitchen first. "Sounds like a plan."

"Hungry? It is almost dinner time."

"Hungry, yes. For food, no."

On a sound of pleasure Eames gently moved them onto their sides, reaching out to stroke Arthur's face. "Impatient, aren't you?"

Making a sound of agreement Arthur grabbed Eames's hand and brought it to his lips, placing a kiss on the palm. "I want to make sure this isn't a dream."

"What?"

"Happy endings usually don't happen to criminals." Arthur reminded him, letting Eames see that he was teasing. "So maybe this is limbo and we don't know it. If you make love to me I'll know." Leaning forward Arthur pressed a quick kiss against Eames's smiling lips. "No dream could be better than the reality."

"Not to mention we'll probably be shaky for a while…having come so close to ending up in limbo." Playing along Eames nipped Arthur's bottom lip teasingly. "We'll have to have lots and lots of sex to make sure it's real."

"Exactly."


	7. Promises Made

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations I put all characters in. Everything else belongs to somebody else and that's just the way it's gotta be. Thanks so much for reading, hope you review and let me know what you think!

Promises Made

Moving around the kitchen as he checked on the progress of the dinner he was preparing, Arthur was well aware of the eyes that followed him everywhere he went. Eames did that now more than ever, watching him closely for any sign that he was still feeling the effects of his car accident. Given the amount of time he'd spent naked around the other man recently you'd think that Eames would be aware of the fact that he was well on the mend, but the forger was being unusually cautious now. The man hadn't screwed his brains out once since they'd arrived, making slow, gentle love to him instead. Not that that was a bad thing, far from it, but the being treated like glass was wearing on his nerves in a big way.

And he really, really missed being taken up against the shower walls.

"You sure I can't help?"

Looking over his shoulder Arthur shook his head, not surprised to see that Eames had already started nibbling on the appetizers too. "You've been doing most of the cooking, I've got this."

Besides, having to focus on so many things at once was keeping him sane and cool, Arthur silently added to himself. He didn't even want to think about the butterflies that had been having parties in his stomach the last few days. That the time was quickly approaching when everything would come to a head made keeping his calm façade in place that much harder.

In fact, another distraction was needed. "Any more phone calls from Dom today?" His own refusal to acknowledge calls from his former partner had caused Dom to go into a tailspin, assuming that something horrible must have happened to his point man for him not to be answering his phone. Eames had stupidly informed Dom that Arthur was fine and simply ignoring him, leading Dom to pelt Eames with calls to convince him to talk to Arthur on his behalf.

Eames was no longer accepting Dom's calls either.

"No, but I got a couple from Ariadne."

Since he wasn't taking any calls from her either Arthur had no idea what she'd been up to since they'd parted ways at the airport. "Is she with him?"

"Nope, but he's got her doing his dirty work so to speak again."

Taking that to mean that she was now campaigning on Dom's behalf Arthur rolled his eyes and turned his attention to the pasta he was preparing, pleased to see that it would finish at the same time as the sauce cooking in the pot beside it. He loved when things came together like that.

Hearing Eames push his chair back Arthur smiled at the sound of the man's bare feet on their hardwood floors, leaning back when his lover's arms came around him, Eames cuddling him close while he nuzzled his neck.

Arthur couldn't help but smile as he nuzzled back. "Five more minutes. And you know it's not safe to play this close to an oven."

"I'm tired of nibbling on the other stuff though." Eames informed him, nipping at his earlobe teasingly. "I want to nibble on you instead."

"You can nibble me from head to toe later."

"Promise?"

"Promise. Now take the appetizers outside and let me finish up in here without either of us getting scalded, cut or otherwise maimed because you're distracting me."

"Yes, Darling."

Watching him do as he asked Arthur smiled until Eames was out on the patio before turning back to focus on his work and not on the evening to come.

)

The weather was balmy with the perfect breeze an hour later, both men enjoying it after the day's scorching heat. It was only a matter of time before the sun set before them, the candles on the table flickering as they gave off light that was more ambiance than necessary for the moment. The table held the remains of their meal, both men sipping the last of their wine as they enjoyed the view and each other's company in silence.

For his part Eames was wondering what had Arthur acting just a little bit off, something about the man's behavior throwing him ever so slightly. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he couldn't help but think that there was something going on and he didn't like being kept in the dark.

Bad things happened when he and Arthur failed to communicate.

But short of asking Arthur what he was up to Eames didn't see himself coming up with the answer anytime soon. His point man knew how to play things close to the chest and Arthur was definitely doing that.

To keep himself sane Eames did his best to concentrate on the fact that their present situation was very close to being a very romantic one. It wasn't only because Arthur was completely oblivious to the potential they had to work with on top of the underlining currents he was picking up at the moment. As it was he doubted the other man had any intention of lingering out on the patio with him once they'd both finished their drinks.

It did surprise him though when Arthur didn't start carting the dishes and silverware into the house after they'd finished their wine, instead walking towards the stairs that led down to the beach. As he watched the point man slipped out of the sturdy sandals he'd been wearing and then turning to look at him.

"I'm going for a walk along the shore. Come with me."

Curiosity piqued Eames kicking off his own sandals and then headed over to walk down the stairs as well, linking his fingers with Arthur's when the other man offered his hand for that purpose.

Staring down at the fingers intertwined with his own as they started walking towards the surf Eames couldn't shake the feeling that Arthur was up to something. Or leading up to something, something planned which was making the man very nervous. That he was actually picking up on the other man's nerves said a lot since Arthur was not the nervous sort. In fact, he couldn't ever recall the point man ever betraying for a moment that he was nervous in all the years he'd known him. Arthur was usually the voice of reason, and he had no problem speaking up when he thought they were doing something stupid, but he was always as cool as a cucumber no matter what crisis he found himself in.

And where had that phrase about cucumbers come from, anyway? Given his countrymen's fondness for cucumber sandwiches he should know, shouldn't he?

Okay, you know you're losing your nerve when you start focusing on something that stupid, Eames lectured himself, shaking his head over it.

"What are you thinking?"

"Do you know where the phrase cool as a cucumber comes from?"

An arched eyebrow was the only sign Arthur gave as to his surprise at the out of the blue question. But the point man answered the question before going silent again.

The silence getting to him in no time Eames turned his attention to the water, taking note of the fact that the sun was going to be setting very shortly. A romantic time to go for a walk, or it would be if not for the fact that his lover was wound tighter than a primed spring. He doubted Arthur was even aware of the show Mother Nature was gearing up to show them.

Sand and Arthur weren't friends.

Lips curving as he recalled their first trip here Eames lost himself in the memory of his attempt to make love to his man on the beach. That had not gone over well. They'd been so desperate for each other thanks to their 'playing' in the water that they hadn't cared about anything but getting back to the beach bag they'd brought with them that he'd just happened to stock with lube and condoms just in case. Arthur of course had wanted to go back to the house since he wasn't the outdoor sex type but he'd managed to get the man out of his swim trunks before Arthur's common sense had kicked in.

Unfortunately they'd both forgotten about staying on their towel while they passionately rolled around as they fought for the top position. A playful fight that had come to an abrupt end when Arthur realized that all that rolling around had resulted in him getting sand all over his back and into places he definitely hadn't wanted dirt getting into.

The shower sex that had followed had been a damn good consolation prize though.

Enjoying those memories Eames automatically stopped when Arthur did, pushing aside his thoughts as he turned his attention to the man whose fingers slipped out of his, annoying him so that he reached out and took the hand back, keeping it firmly in his grasp.

"I need that hand, Eames."

"For something more important than holding mine, Darling? I'm crushed."

Arthur seemed a little amused, but he tugged his hand free again, Eames letting him since he didn't want their evening together to end badly. They'd been doing extremely well in the not fighting department and he'd prefer to keep it that way as long as possible.

"So obviously you've figured out that I'm up to something. You have no idea what though, right?"

"Not a clue."

Rather than reassure his point man Eames got the distinct impression that Arthur would have preferred it if he had figured out exactly what he was up to.

"I cooked, set up a fancy table, dining outdoors, walk on the beach at sunset." Arthur checked them off on his fingers, squirming just enough to be obvious to Eames's overly observant gaze. "I was trying to…be romantic in the mushy, cliché sense of the word. I thought about trying it my way but I decided that would probably be too subtle and that you'd…prefer me acting like a bestowed idiot who is oblivious to the fact that one should strive to rise above average, overused gestures."

Lips twitching Eames thought it wise not to mention that he'd thought that Arthur hadn't realized that the dinner and the walk could be considered romantic. He'd just figured the man had felt like dining fancy and walking off their meal afterwards because he was bloody health conscious.

But since he wanted to keep living he just leaned forward and gave Arthur a slow, loving kiss in thanks for the gestures. He knew Arthur considered dumbing down his own intelligence for the sake of someone else to be a huge show of affection, and the point man wasn't big on romance.

And then a thought occurred to him. "So what do you need your hands for again? Hand holding is romantic too, Luv."

Obviously not the right question to ask, Eames decided as he watched all the color leave Arthur's cheeks and then come back in a heated rush. And wasn't that just interesting, especially since the man glanced to check the progress of the sun before turning back to looking at him.

Opening his mouth with the intention of teasing the answer out of the man Eames's words died in his throat as his lover dropped to one knee in front of him, retrieving what looked very much like a jewelry box from his unusually loose slacks.

"Arthur?"

"I screwed up big time and I almost lost you forever because I didn't make it clear how I feel about you. I don't want to risk ever doing that again. I want you to know, even when I forget to say or show it, how I feel about you." Carefully Arthur opened the box's lid to reveal the two rings resting in the satin. "Would you, Tom Eames, do me the honor of becoming both my partner and husband?"

His strength deserting him Eames fell down to his knees, alternating between gaping at the twin rings and Arthur's serious face. Not that this was something his lover would ever joke about but still…he was being proposed to? Arthur was proposing to him?

"This is the part where you say yes or no, Eames."

The need and nerves in those words snapping him out of his daze, Eames focused his gaze, staring into Arthur's eyes as he absorbed the emotion there for several heartbeats before nodding his head.

"Yes, Darling. Hell yes I'll marry you."

Eames laughter as Arthur threw himself at him was cut off as the point man's lips pressed up against his in a passionate kiss that conveyed all the love Arthur felt for him as well as a lot of relief. And kissing him right back Eames wrapped his arms around his lover, holding him close as he let the joy wash over him in delicious, warming waves.

When air became a necessity they pulled away with great reluctance, settling for quick kisses as their lungs restocked on oxygen.

"Let's see these rings of ours, then."

When Arthur held out the box once more Eames picked out the larger of the two and then handed it to his lover with an expectant look.

Shaking his head Arthur pointed out that it wasn't time for that yet, but the gleam in his brown eyes betrayed him as he set down the jewelry box and then took Eames's left hand in his, sliding the wedding band into place, the fit perfect.

Finding it hard to talk Eames had to clear his throat as he stared down at the symbol he now wore. "Trust you to be able to guess my ring size."

Arthur chuckled. "Actually, the rings incident we had at the market a couple of days ago was me tricking you into letting me find out your ring size. I got lucky yesterday, when I went to the jewelry stores in the area. Yours was already your size and mine is just a little too big. I'll have it sized properly before the ceremony."

Laughing so hard Eames wasn't sure he wouldn't bust a rib, the forger shaking his head as he marveled at the other man's creativity. The ring incident had been Arthur shoving a bunch of rings on his fingers since apparently someone who sometimes dressed like a pimp should have a lot of jewelry in Arthur's opinion. At the time he'd just brushed it off as Arthur being Arthur, but he should have known the man would never encourage him to buy bling.

It took some doing too, to stop laughing, but eventually the fact that he was only one wearing a ring filtered into Eames's subconscious. And that just wouldn't do, Eames thought as he got himself under control, reaching around his lover to retrieve the ring box from its sandy resting place.

Taking out the remaining ring Eames smiled as he accepted the hand Arthur held out to him, sliding the ring onto the correct finger while his heart thumping wildly in his chest like this was the real thing.

In that moment it felt like the real thing and nothing had ever felt so right in his life.

"Till death do us part."

"Not even death." Arthur corrected, his tone making it clear he wasn't to be argued with. "For all eternity."

"All eternity." Eames repeated, liking that a whole lot better too as he leaned in to seal the promise with a kiss.

Keeping his left hand in a fist to insure that the ring wouldn't slide off his finger accidentally, Arthur wrapped his other arm around Eames's neck, shifting closer so that he was straddling the forger's knees. His goal was obviously to get as close as possible and Eames wholeheartedly supported the idea, tangling his fingers in Arthur's hair as he deepened the kiss.

And to show how much he liked the point man's eagerness Eames pulled back and retrieved Arthur's fisted hand, bringing it to his lips so that he could place kisses over the fingers before sliding the ring finger into his mouth, sucking on it while he looked knowingly into his lover's eyes, promising all sorts of things he couldn't wait to follow through on.

The sound of Arthur sighing out his name had Eames stealing one last kiss before suggesting they head back to the house so that he could properly demonstrate how much he loved the fact that they were engaged.

"Not necessary." Reaching into his other pocket Arthur retrieved the other item he'd brought with him, wiggling the tube teasingly between them. "I'm the point man in this relationship after all." Leaning forward he nipped Eames's bottom lip. "It's my job to be prepared."

"Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting, Darling?"

"Mhhmm. So lose the shirt but keep the pants on but open." Arthur squeezed his thighs to drive home his point. "Now that we're engaged no one gets to see you naked from the waist down but me."

Having no problem with that Eames quickly slid his shirt up and over his head and undid the front of his pants, making a sound of approval when Arthur's shirt joined his on the sand. "We can put the shirts under you." He offered in between the kisses he pressed against Arthur's throat.

"Yeah, like I'd be able to stay on them the whole time. And besides, I'm planning on making you make it up to me."

Intrigued Eames lifted his head to meet Arthur's gaze. "Oh really, and what do you want badly enough to tolerate the sand, My Soon To Be Hubby?"

"What do I want?" Arthur repeated, a definite purr to his voice as he undid his own pants and started sliding them down to reveal that he'd been going commando. "What I want is 'make me scream myself hoarse' shower sex afterwards, Mr. Eames. And I won't take no for an answer."

Not being an idiot Eames got the message loud and clear. Arthur had reached his limit to being babied. "It's a deal if you say you love me."

Grinning Arthur shifted his weight, taking Eames with him so that he was lying on his back with his lover on top of him. "I love you."

"I love you too." Pause. "And it's a deal."

"Thank God."

And as it turned out, it was a deal they would strike often in the years to come.

)

The End


End file.
